J&-relation to its wealth—by default or design. Energy consumption—the U.S. is worse. Military aggression—the U.S. is

doesn't give any answers. If anything, may pose more questions. All it does i: present some individual narratives wit

§£"•«"-«-

I

"The future of the state depends, at least in Europe, on the insight that the state of the twentieth century, the nation-state endowed with domestic and exterior sovereignty, no longer has a future." ERHABD EPPLER

KYAL WEIZMAN ship such as support aims at a differ-t y interested in your work on the ent category of action—it is concerned • I "support," using it as a way to with how the political is staged and per-

CONVERSATION: London, July 2007

UPPORT,

ATION, CJ)x X vJL/JL-i j t jL""

ONSHIPS TO

EQUITY Celine Condoretti, Eyal Weizman

relation to its wealth—by default or design. Energy consumption—the U.S. is worse. Military aggression—the U.S. is

doesn't give any answers. If anything, i' may pose more questions. All it does j -present some individual narratives wii li

I/O I/O

EYAL WEIZMAN

.TV interested in your work on the of "support," using it as a way to i! chitectural/political relations.

, •., For the sake of clarity, you I in ie fly describe the way you artic-

.upport" as a critical category^

CELINE CONDOREIXI -•it is based on generosity. It is criti-Mi not a category. Support is a type >i Kinship between people, objects, I lorms, and political structures, in 11.10 way that participation, or con-.iic other forms of relations; each •-.os a specific mode of operation, i.ii;o, and further relations. Sup-II lows a particular investigation in .' o might work together toward >.:< , and becomes critical in allow-liiimof political imagination to I'I.ire, both as a position and a prac-11 invites readings and inhabitations it lonships between power struc-. .ocial realities, and institutional

There are many forms of support, .»i 1 ling is inherently supportive just •i hmg is inherently conflictual. Sup-> in occur in the interstices of cul-,t 1 uctures or society, in its ad-hoc

,ii ions and encounters. It is some-lurcl to recognize as it takes up a

ion of interfacing and organization, ii 11 m which inevitably recedes in » kground; it is a practice of weak-

.iiul negotiation. Support allows us ink toward an equalizing move-

It is a carrier for interdependency • •I ni of re-equalization. The prop-

it support is an experiment to odes of production and there-i.sform what we produce, by tig the very processes through •c operate, through the prac-ipporting. Defining a relation­

ship such as support aims at a differ­ent category of action—it is concerned with how the political is staged and per­formed, and with the inherent ideolo­gy of frames and display, organizational forms, appropriation, dependency, and temporariness. Andrea Philips, in "doing democracy," puts it like this: "The idea of generosity—and friendship—is cen­tral to this thought. To be a friend, in Derrida's terms, one must know what it means to depend on a friend. This is, at least metaphorically, the capacity of scaffolding that Support Structure ref­erences, as a proto-architectural sup­position. Again, and not without logic in Derrida's terms, this is incidentally a very redemptive idea." Supporting con­tains an offer, an invitation—but first of all it establishes a relationship of inter­dependency, the entry into which is the opening up of potential communities, associations, active relationships—a tak­ing up of both political and hierarchical responsibility. But here is where I was hoping that you might be able to expand on these notions in the field of politics.

EW The notion of support you talk about is similar to ideas connected to the rise and fall of the welfare state. With the reconstruction and growth of the post-Second World War period, a massive military-industrial complex turned into a set of services and supports. This was the time when the beginning of the Brit­ish decolonization process lead to exten­sive labor migration, which caused the colonial geographies and economies of decommissioning European empires to fold into the ethnically and spatially dif­ferent inner cities. The welfare state seemed grounded in the fantasy of social fusion and unity; it also went hand in

B29

hand with a humanist approach that saw the political subject as an empty slate, with unified standard needs. The fanta­sy of the new social-democratic politi­cal subject as emerging from the ruins of war sought to undo difference. The dif­ferences that characterized multicultur­al, multiracial metropolises were flat­tened into categories of need, and hence the State was in a position of support. New forms of difference, manifest in ethnic and racial conflict, emerged how­ever in the new interstitial spaces of the welfare state—housing estates, schools, workplaces, and hospitals—creating in effect a parallel and sometimes invisi­ble urbanism of social exclusion that was overlaid on the homogenous environ­ment of postwar modernism. Top-down support thus both flattened differences and at times was abused, making things worse. So this is how I see the potential to use your understanding of the term "support"—itself as a critical category in reading the politics of the welfare state. I guess things are different now, and what is interesting is the way, both cul­turally and economically, the notion of support changed after the oil crisis of the 1970s. People like to connect that change to Thatcherite politics and to exaggerate Margaret Thatcher's role in the destruc­tion of the welfare state, but I some­times think that she has become more of a symbol of these political transforma­tions than their real essence. In fact, it was the 1973 oil crisis that kick-started a process that gave birth to a multiplici­ty of what James Rosenau called "sover­eignty-free actors." These were indepen­dent organizations—as varied as protest and revolutionary movements, religious groups, humanitarian organizations, new businesses, and guerrilla groups— who positioned themselves on the

national and international stages, con­ducting "private sphere diplomacy" and engaging in actions previously reserved only for states. So the collapse of the fantasy of the homogenous welfare state was replaced with a multiplicity ol NGOs creating a more fragmented form of support. NGOs moved into roles pre­viously reserved for municipalities (on the neighborhood scale), governments (on the urban scale), and internation­al institutions (on the global scale). Sup­port became particularized and custom­ized as well as based upon a multiplicity of conflicting ideologies and interests. But I think here you could start helping me out—how can forms of support be articulated on smaller levels at particu­lar organizations, and how do they pro­pose an alternative form of governance^

cc

I think that here one has to start from an assumption, and that is that we want or need to activate civil society as mul­tiple political agencies; if this is a start­ing point, then one of the things we need to work on is the place of democra­cy, through the reinvention, the rethink­ing, and the expanding of its spatial con­text, this being the public sphere. We cannot think anymore drawing upon the idea of a unified public sphere addressing a single self-governing community, yet the formations of public space that sur­round us largely seem to impose a par­ticular type of behavior that has only the semblance of an engagement in the pub­lic realm—the appearance of an active participation in the political and in soci­ety. Participative modes are used as con­firmations rather than expansions of the decision-making process and under­line the urgency of re-democratizing the public sphere. What kinds of structures

l'iw us to imagine different types '^ements—where is the space of

i tncei Can we invent alternative ii ions through the practice of sup-> : in support of a form of politi-..;'.ination^ I of course cannot pre-•' provide an answer, but can only n . hypothesis by practicing it and

HI;; new sets of questions. The Mislion is about the forms of top-• upport that you talked about in

HI ship to the welfare state and 11isc, and a re-democratization •)i the bottom-up support that I • 'posing. Enacting this type of gen-v < ,m only be done through par-i strategies and methodologies of i I h is is the moment when a para-ipcars between the pure potential ipport structure and the bureaucra-•n and institutionalization of the

II uctures one needs to work with. -. not as innocent or as "good" as it .is through this process the open-

> nt potential can also lead to the H I ion, or at least to the profound Killing, of that which is being sup-I What I mean is that once pos-

H s lor revision are open, the con-in cs are open as well—and can in necessary closings and disap-

IH cs. One example I would like MI ion is the project Support Struc-i.l tor the Portsmouth Multicul-.loup, a perfect example of a

• i nmcil organization embodying • •blcmatics, conflicting interests, i-cilogies of a supporting govern-

I tic process of the project led the III question its identity and what i •! was not standing for in relation illy and its inhabitants, a ques-

i;.; so deep that several key mem-H ilr/.ing that their ambitions and

i oiild never be fulfilled through

the structure in their hands, left the organization and in this way declared the dismantling of some of the assump­tions upon which it was built. Exam­ples such as this can be understood as comprising the destructive side of sup­port, which does however offer some­thing beyond its seemingly redemptive aspect, through creating the possibil­ity for questioning and, therefore, clo­sure. Superficially, support can be under­stood as aimed toward the fulfillment of a need or a lack. This relates very clearly to the notion you mentioned, in which I am very interested, of a flattening of individuals into the generic concept of a subject in need. This is the imagination of the citizen as a receptacle, a person to whom governmental structures and democratic processes are applied, rath­er than an active force in him- or her­self who partakes in the governing of the nation-state. But of course we know that there is no one-sided relationship, and that power, like any political capac­ity, needs to be exercised, and not only by those in situations of apparent advan­tage. This means that structures—any structures—exist only through their pro­cess of activity. Creating smaller lev­els of particular organizations, and the practice of supporting, might allow us to think toward a mutually equalizing pro­cess, away from an abstract notion of autonomy and independence and toward the position of the political subject as one engaged in the politics of its being a subject. I think this is the moment when one can reasonably introduce, from the welfare state, the condition of anoth­er type of political but non-governmen­tal support—that of international and humanitarian aid, specifically the spa­tial typology of the camp, which is a condition you have looked at exten-

B30 B31

hand with a humanist approach that saw the political subject as an empty slate, with unified standard needs. The fanta­sy of the new social-democratic politi­cal subject as emerging from the ruins of war sought to undo difference. The dif­ferences that characterized multicultur­al, multiracial metropolises were flat­tened into categories of need, and hence the State was in a position of support. New forms of difference, manifest in ethnic and racial conflict, emerged how­ever in the new interstitial spaces of the welfare state—housing estates, schools, workplaces, and hospitals—creating in effect a parallel and sometimes invisi­ble urbanism of social exclusion that was overlaid on the homogenous environ­ment of postwar modernism. Top-down support thus both flattened differences and at times was abused, making things worse. So this is how I see the potential to use your understanding of the term "support"—itself as a critical category in reading the politics of the welfare state. I guess things are different now, and what is interesting is the way, both cul­turally and economically, the notion of support changed after the oil crisis of the 1970s. People like to connect that change to Thatcherite politics and to exaggerate Margaret Thatcher's role in the destruc­tion of the welfare state, but I some­times think that she has become more of a symbol of these political transforma­tions than their real essence. In fact, it was the 1973 oil crisis that kick-started a process that gave birth to a multiplici­ty of what James Rosenau called "sover­eignty-free actors." These were indepen­dent organizations—as varied as protest and revolutionary movements, religious groups, humanitarian organizations, new businesses, and guerrilla groups— who positioned themselves on the

national and international stages, con­ducting "private sphere diplomacy" and engaging in actions previously reserved only for states. So the collapse of the fantasy of the homogenous welfare state was replaced with a multiplicity ol NGOs creating a more fragmented form of support. NGOs moved into roles pre­viously reserved for municipalities (on the neighborhood scale), governments (on the urban scale), and internation­al institutions (on the global scale). Sup­port became particularized and custom­ized as well as based upon a multiplicity of conflicting ideologies and interests. But I think here you could start helping me out—how can forms of support be articulated on smaller levels at particu­lar organizations, and how do they pro­pose an alternative form of governance^

cc

I think that here one has to start from an assumption, and that is that we want or need to activate civil society as mul­tiple political agencies; if this is a start­ing point, then one of the things we need to work on is the place of democra­cy, through the reinvention, the rethink­ing, and the expanding of its spatial con­text, this being the public sphere. We cannot think anymore drawing upon the idea of a unified public sphere addressing a single self-governing community, yet the formations of public space that sur­round us largely seem to impose a par­ticular type of behavior that has only the semblance of an engagement in the pub­lic realm—the appearance of an active participation in the political and in soci­ety. Participative modes are used as con­firmations rather than expansions of the decision-making process and under­line the urgency of re-democratizing the public sphere. What kinds of structures

l'iw us to imagine different types '^ements—where is the space of

i tncei Can we invent alternative ii ions through the practice of sup-> : in support of a form of politi-..;'.ination^ I of course cannot pre-•' provide an answer, but can only n . hypothesis by practicing it and

HI;; new sets of questions. The Mislion is about the forms of top-• upport that you talked about in

HI ship to the welfare state and 11isc, and a re-democratization •)i the bottom-up support that I • 'posing. Enacting this type of gen-v < ,m only be done through par-i strategies and methodologies of i I h is is the moment when a para-ipcars between the pure potential ipport structure and the bureaucra-•n and institutionalization of the

II uctures one needs to work with. -. not as innocent or as "good" as it .is through this process the open-

> nt potential can also lead to the H I ion, or at least to the profound Killing, of that which is being sup-I What I mean is that once pos-

H s lor revision are open, the con-in cs are open as well—and can in necessary closings and disap-

IH cs. One example I would like MI ion is the project Support Struc-i.l tor the Portsmouth Multicul-.loup, a perfect example of a

• i nmcil organization embodying • •blcmatics, conflicting interests, i-cilogies of a supporting govern-

I tic process of the project led the III question its identity and what i •! was not standing for in relation illy and its inhabitants, a ques-

i;.; so deep that several key mem-H ilr/.ing that their ambitions and

i oiild never be fulfilled through

the structure in their hands, left the organization and in this way declared the dismantling of some of the assump­tions upon which it was built. Exam­ples such as this can be understood as comprising the destructive side of sup­port, which does however offer some­thing beyond its seemingly redemptive aspect, through creating the possibil­ity for questioning and, therefore, clo­sure. Superficially, support can be under­stood as aimed toward the fulfillment of a need or a lack. This relates very clearly to the notion you mentioned, in which I am very interested, of a flattening of individuals into the generic concept of a subject in need. This is the imagination of the citizen as a receptacle, a person to whom governmental structures and democratic processes are applied, rath­er than an active force in him- or her­self who partakes in the governing of the nation-state. But of course we know that there is no one-sided relationship, and that power, like any political capac­ity, needs to be exercised, and not only by those in situations of apparent advan­tage. This means that structures—any structures—exist only through their pro­cess of activity. Creating smaller lev­els of particular organizations, and the practice of supporting, might allow us to think toward a mutually equalizing pro­cess, away from an abstract notion of autonomy and independence and toward the position of the political subject as one engaged in the politics of its being a subject. I think this is the moment when one can reasonably introduce, from the welfare state, the condition of anoth­er type of political but non-governmen­tal support—that of international and humanitarian aid, specifically the spa­tial typology of the camp, which is a condition you have looked at exten-

B30 B31

sively through your practice. Can you offer a reading of what is being pro­duced through this form of support^

EW

Yes, this may be connected to the devel­opment of intervention in zones of cri­sis, and to interventions by the interna­tional non-governmental community—a sphere that has in recent years expanded into a multi-billion dollar "aid industry." Until the 1970s, most aid was actual­ly delivered by the Red Cross or United Nations agencies. Since the Biafra crisis, there has developed an incredible rev­olution, exemplified by highly particu­lar, privately funded and non-govern­mental aid that has begun to intervene in zones of crisis. Doctors Without Bor­ders (Medecins Sans Frontieres—MSF) is definitively one of the most power­ful and successful of these new groups. However, intervention was often lit­tle reflected. Unreflected direct inter­vention, however well intentioned, has quickly become complicit with the very aims of power itself. Interventions of this kind often undertake tasks that are the legal—though neglected—re­sponsibilities of the military in control, thus relieving it of its responsibilities, and allowing it to divert resources else­where. Furthermore, by moderating the actions of perpetrating governments, interventions may make the actions of those governments appear more toler­able and efficient, and thus may even help, by some accounts, extend their regime. In the worst case—refugee camps—an immediate urbanism that could sometimes host up to a few hun­dred thousand people could create pop­ulation transfer and cleansing of areas. This problem is at the heart of what came to be known as the "humanitari­

an paradox," which is one of the reasons that Giorgio Agamben, in Homo Sacer, observed that humanitarians "main­tain a secret solidarity with the powers they ought to fight." For him both con­centrate on the "human" rather than on the "political" aspect of being. Agam­ben further warned that "there are no humanitarian solutions to humanitar­ian problems." One of the most impor­tant innovations in this field—conceived to minimize such problems and com­plicities—has been conceived by mem­bers of MSF, and was best articulated by one of its founding members, Rony Brau-man. MSF's code of practice insists that humanitarian organizations who some­times gain access to environments and information to which others, including journalists, have no access, must be pre­pared not only to perform their profes­sional tasks but also "to bear witness to the truth of injustice, and to insist on political responsibility." According to Brauman, medical experts go into the field with a medical kit and return in order to bear witness. Acts of witnessing can be undertaken as unmediated visu­al testimony—registering what members see as taking place—or as medical testi­mony from the specialized perspective of professional expertise and medical knowledge. MSF's method is simple but innovative: in doubling the role of the medical expert with that of the witness, its members can work with the para­doxes presented in conflict zones rath­er than surrender to them. Testimony, or bearing witness, like the very act of sup­port, thus has in these situations obvi­ously both an epistemological value—a report on what is taking place—and an ethical value—of being beside victims. Some organizations are actually fund­ed and driven by religious communi-

'' I most are supported and operat-Irdicated young people. They have

• i i eiving a lot of criticism in recent •ome justifiable and some exagger-

1 'Wit I still think that we can appre-<>• uid respect their positions. But now • H ' c talk of-witnessing and ethics,I'd HI illy like to talk to you about art, I'' 'i HI itself can become a form of crit-.1 .lid political intervention, especial-11. vour hands. So how has the con-i i if contemporary art become for you |.i i'ific territory of practices in calling

•i i he production of the public spherei

cc in- question still is, for me, asking what '••nig supported and through which

H-.uis. Support structures offer possibili-

• • beyond and sometimes against their ni lal invitation. What kind of a position • ii ;; this represent^ I am not a political i. orist, but I am interested in the type f practice that this proposes. Working i (he cultural realm is an ongoing pro--•s of political positioning which engag-.. through its own mediums, language, ml the discursive site, in the larger forc-• ,it work. Negotiation is understood as i - opposite of principle. It is the most pressed element of the idea of democ-

ii y, as it inevitably contains some com-nimise, and compromise is usually seen . a declaration of weakness. Negotia-i .a offers a process of articulation, and ii- acknowledgement of often antag-nistic positions in order to come out ith productive modes of commonal-v—a being-in-common that works ward further dialogues and complexi-cations. A support structure is in a cer-tin sense a questioning structure, a ipplement, a somehow external organi-rition, with at least a certain degree of utonomy from the situation it address­

es; this allows it to pose, expose, and revise questions in relationship to its context and how to operate within it. Support is negotiation—it is not the application of principle, but a conversa­tion toward something that it does not define. The architectural construction' of power is never in itself impermeable, but is rendered so by the institutions that install it and most of all maintain it, supporting its condition or its coming into being. The question next is, then, how do we negotiate with these objects, and through those with the institutions behind them<?- It is in fact culture that allows the individual to position him/ herself in the public realm, within and among permanently shifting and con­flicting inputs, the conciliation of which is the making of public space. This means that a European (or other) politi­cal project must be formulated around a cultural structure as well as an econom­ical one. The environments we inhabit are therefore embedded in this constant process of formulation, being negotiat­ed by politics between the paradigms of culture and economics. This tractable dimension of the public realm is where we can measure our rights as citizens. By entering the public realm, one there­fore becomes part of the process of nego­tiation—this relies on encouraging mul­tiple possibilities, rather than fixed or hard positions. This might be one of the essential elements for a minimal frame­work for European civil rights. Culture, politics, and economy can be both tool and content, and object and site, of artis­tic practice. They are creative and inter­pretive practices; they are productions that take the form, among other posi­tions, of negotiated relations between discourses and practices, between pol­itics and culture. Interrogating a disci-

B32 B33

sively through your practice. Can you offer a reading of what is being pro­duced through this form of support^

EW

Yes, this may be connected to the devel­opment of intervention in zones of cri­sis, and to interventions by the interna­tional non-governmental community—a sphere that has in recent years expanded into a multi-billion dollar "aid industry." Until the 1970s, most aid was actual­ly delivered by the Red Cross or United Nations agencies. Since the Biafra crisis, there has developed an incredible rev­olution, exemplified by highly particu­lar, privately funded and non-govern­mental aid that has begun to intervene in zones of crisis. Doctors Without Bor­ders (Medecins Sans Frontieres—MSF) is definitively one of the most power­ful and successful of these new groups. However, intervention was often lit­tle reflected. Unreflected direct inter­vention, however well intentioned, has quickly become complicit with the very aims of power itself. Interventions of this kind often undertake tasks that are the legal—though neglected—re­sponsibilities of the military in control, thus relieving it of its responsibilities, and allowing it to divert resources else­where. Furthermore, by moderating the actions of perpetrating governments, interventions may make the actions of those governments appear more toler­able and efficient, and thus may even help, by some accounts, extend their regime. In the worst case—refugee camps—an immediate urbanism that could sometimes host up to a few hun­dred thousand people could create pop­ulation transfer and cleansing of areas. This problem is at the heart of what came to be known as the "humanitari­

an paradox," which is one of the reasons that Giorgio Agamben, in Homo Sacer, observed that humanitarians "main­tain a secret solidarity with the powers they ought to fight." For him both con­centrate on the "human" rather than on the "political" aspect of being. Agam­ben further warned that "there are no humanitarian solutions to humanitar­ian problems." One of the most impor­tant innovations in this field—conceived to minimize such problems and com­plicities—has been conceived by mem­bers of MSF, and was best articulated by one of its founding members, Rony Brau-man. MSF's code of practice insists that humanitarian organizations who some­times gain access to environments and information to which others, including journalists, have no access, must be pre­pared not only to perform their profes­sional tasks but also "to bear witness to the truth of injustice, and to insist on political responsibility." According to Brauman, medical experts go into the field with a medical kit and return in order to bear witness. Acts of witnessing can be undertaken as unmediated visu­al testimony—registering what members see as taking place—or as medical testi­mony from the specialized perspective of professional expertise and medical knowledge. MSF's method is simple but innovative: in doubling the role of the medical expert with that of the witness, its members can work with the para­doxes presented in conflict zones rath­er than surrender to them. Testimony, or bearing witness, like the very act of sup­port, thus has in these situations obvi­ously both an epistemological value—a report on what is taking place—and an ethical value—of being beside victims. Some organizations are actually fund­ed and driven by religious communi-

'' I most are supported and operat-Irdicated young people. They have

• i i eiving a lot of criticism in recent •ome justifiable and some exagger-

1 'Wit I still think that we can appre-<>• uid respect their positions. But now • H ' c talk of-witnessing and ethics,I'd HI illy like to talk to you about art, I'' 'i HI itself can become a form of crit-.1 .lid political intervention, especial-11. vour hands. So how has the con-i i if contemporary art become for you |.i i'ific territory of practices in calling

•i i he production of the public spherei

cc in- question still is, for me, asking what '••nig supported and through which

H-.uis. Support structures offer possibili-

• • beyond and sometimes against their ni lal invitation. What kind of a position • ii ;; this represent^ I am not a political i. orist, but I am interested in the type f practice that this proposes. Working i (he cultural realm is an ongoing pro--•s of political positioning which engag-.. through its own mediums, language, ml the discursive site, in the larger forc-• ,it work. Negotiation is understood as i - opposite of principle. It is the most pressed element of the idea of democ-

ii y, as it inevitably contains some com-nimise, and compromise is usually seen . a declaration of weakness. Negotia-i .a offers a process of articulation, and ii- acknowledgement of often antag-nistic positions in order to come out ith productive modes of commonal-v—a being-in-common that works ward further dialogues and complexi-cations. A support structure is in a cer-tin sense a questioning structure, a ipplement, a somehow external organi-rition, with at least a certain degree of utonomy from the situation it address­

es; this allows it to pose, expose, and revise questions in relationship to its context and how to operate within it. Support is negotiation—it is not the application of principle, but a conversa­tion toward something that it does not define. The architectural construction' of power is never in itself impermeable, but is rendered so by the institutions that install it and most of all maintain it, supporting its condition or its coming into being. The question next is, then, how do we negotiate with these objects, and through those with the institutions behind them<?- It is in fact culture that allows the individual to position him/ herself in the public realm, within and among permanently shifting and con­flicting inputs, the conciliation of which is the making of public space. This means that a European (or other) politi­cal project must be formulated around a cultural structure as well as an econom­ical one. The environments we inhabit are therefore embedded in this constant process of formulation, being negotiat­ed by politics between the paradigms of culture and economics. This tractable dimension of the public realm is where we can measure our rights as citizens. By entering the public realm, one there­fore becomes part of the process of nego­tiation—this relies on encouraging mul­tiple possibilities, rather than fixed or hard positions. This might be one of the essential elements for a minimal frame­work for European civil rights. Culture, politics, and economy can be both tool and content, and object and site, of artis­tic practice. They are creative and inter­pretive practices; they are productions that take the form, among other posi­tions, of negotiated relations between discourses and practices, between pol­itics and culture. Interrogating a disci-

B32 B33

pline's relations to power structures, and to social and territorial organizations, is a necessary endeavor which anchors a work interested in accessing and mak­ing available shared notions of space and negotiation (social, aesthetic, and polit­ical) to which it gave rise. A contextual practice—and this may be art or archi­tecture—need not only construct and present a context, but also acknowl­edge itself as actively producing or fab­ricating the environment with which it engages. This transformation of the understanding of context, and therefore of the context itself, from a set of con­ditions to a political production, is to inscribe it with a new set of possibili­ties. What it being identified is not sim­ply formal or architectural intervention, but implicit connection, visible or invis­ible, to the potential organization and operation of structures of power and control. The landscape of cultural pro­duction is the site of such a practice, and temporariness, dependency, and invis­ibility are the tools suggested by sup­port. Its work is organized around the creation of alternative loci for speech and action. There is a particular side of your work in the West Bank that not only seems to take issue with archi­tecture and politics at large, but spe­cifically with the construction of poli­tics through architecture. How can you define its role on a geopolitical level and your position in relationship to iti

EW

Focusing on the Israeli occupation allowed me to see Israel's spatial strat­egies as within a "laboratory of the extreme." The technologies of control that enable Israel's continued coloni­zation of the Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza are located at the end

B34

of an evolutionary chain of techniques of colonization, occupation, and gover­nance developed throaghout the histo­ry of colonialism. Every change in the geography of the occupation has further more been undertaken using the tech­niques and technologies of the time, and in exchange with other developments worldwide. The extended significance of this "laboratory" is in the fact that the techniques of domination, as well as the techniques of resistance to them, have expanded and multiplied across what critical geographer Derek Gregory called the "colonial present," and beyond—in­to the metropolitan centers of global cit­ies. When the wall around the American Green Zone in Baghdad looks if it has been built from leftover components of the West Bank Wall; when "temporary closures" are imposed on entire Iraqi towns and villages and reinforced with earth dykes and barbed wire; when larg­er regions are carved up by road blocks and checkpoints; when the homes of suspected terrorists are destroyed, and "targeted assassinations" are introduced into a new global militarized geog­raphy; it is because the separate con­flicts now generally collected under the heading of the "war on terror"—are the backdrop to the formation of complex "institutional ecologies" that allow the exchange of technologies, mechanisms, doctrines, and spatial strategies between various militaries and the organizations that they confront, as well as between the civilian and the military domains. The main surge of the colonization of the West Bank in the 1980s coincided with the Regan-era flight of the Ameri­can middle classes and their forting up behind protective walls—both forma­tions which set themselves against the poverty and violence they themselves

d. Perfecting the politics of fear, f ion, seclusion, and visual con-i' settlements, checkpoints, walls, lu-r security measures are also the

• i are in the hardening of enclaves, • the physical and virtual exten-1 borders in the context of the i-cent global "war on terror." The

• •cture of Israeli occupation could •• seen as an accelerator and an lation of other global political pro-; a worst-case scenario of capital­

ization and its spatial fallout.

• i)( course Foucault who said, in . i nous interview with Paul Rabi-i :iat the forces of global political •.•it's remain invested in architec-1'he reason this may be impor-

iu re, even if predictable, is not only . articulates the active relationship

• -en architecture and power, but a opens the possibility for it to be

ight and exercised anew, different-gain and again. Foucault in a sense rated spatial form, and with it the tree of architecture, from being con­ed as belonging to inescapable orders beration or oppression. An architec-of oppression might be one of the

icnts which makes resistance and osition possible, but it is not in the utecture itself that liberation from ression is contained nor embodied: erty, is a practice . . . liberty is what it be exercised." Architecture might ble to support a form of political itution and vice versa, but it cannot :rol it or determine it. It can, howev-ause material and formal differentia-s; but it is the other institutions that sort that physical condition, that [ally establish the political space, political space depends not only on

physical or conceptual form, but on the context—spatial, political, and tempo­ral. Architecture at best is in control of some aspects of material form, a minor relationship to events through program, and a very indeterminate relationship to context through some relationship to site. It participates in producing polit­ical space but is unable to determine it. What we constantly need are oth­er institutions to prop up the architec­tural effect; and the notion of propping up is where a certain mythology about architecture and its making is in contrac­tion to the notion of autonomy. It could install a democracy, or any other form of organization, depending on the kinds of institutions, and military, economic, or social patterns, which support it in the first place. The architecture in turn sup­ports the institution and produces it; it stages the political and with it the inher­ent ideology of frames. Architecture and any other spatial form therefore come into being through the institutions that support them, rather than embody what the institutions are or can imagine. This exposes all of the problems inherent in thinking of art or architecture as applied practices in relationship to a need or lack. The ideal of autonomy is pulling away from the inherent messiness of intervening in the social realm—work­ing away from independence toward notions of equity and inter-dependen­cy—and is profoundly concerned with a certain type of invisibility. This is the invisibility of permanence and image, an actively promoted incapacity to artic­ulate any kind of final product. There is in the practice of supporting a move­ment toward the erasure of the visible, encouraging an unarticulated visual-ity precisely in order to prevent arriv­ing at any possible conclusion or solu-

B35

. . * ."-wun

pline's relations to power structures, and to social and territorial organizations, is a necessary endeavor which anchors a work interested in accessing and mak­ing available shared notions of space and negotiation (social, aesthetic, and polit­ical) to which it gave rise. A contextual practice—and this may be art or archi­tecture—need not only construct and present a context, but also acknowl­edge itself as actively producing or fab­ricating the environment with which it engages. This transformation of the understanding of context, and therefore of the context itself, from a set of con­ditions to a political production, is to inscribe it with a new set of possibili­ties. What it being identified is not sim­ply formal or architectural intervention, but implicit connection, visible or invis­ible, to the potential organization and operation of structures of power and control. The landscape of cultural pro­duction is the site of such a practice, and temporariness, dependency, and invis­ibility are the tools suggested by sup­port. Its work is organized around the creation of alternative loci for speech and action. There is a particular side of your work in the West Bank that not only seems to take issue with archi­tecture and politics at large, but spe­cifically with the construction of poli­tics through architecture. How can you define its role on a geopolitical level and your position in relationship to iti

EW

Focusing on the Israeli occupation allowed me to see Israel's spatial strat­egies as within a "laboratory of the extreme." The technologies of control that enable Israel's continued coloni­zation of the Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza are located at the end

B34

of an evolutionary chain of techniques of colonization, occupation, and gover­nance developed throaghout the histo­ry of colonialism. Every change in the geography of the occupation has further more been undertaken using the tech­niques and technologies of the time, and in exchange with other developments worldwide. The extended significance of this "laboratory" is in the fact that the techniques of domination, as well as the techniques of resistance to them, have expanded and multiplied across what critical geographer Derek Gregory called the "colonial present," and beyond—in­to the metropolitan centers of global cit­ies. When the wall around the American Green Zone in Baghdad looks if it has been built from leftover components of the West Bank Wall; when "temporary closures" are imposed on entire Iraqi towns and villages and reinforced with earth dykes and barbed wire; when larg­er regions are carved up by road blocks and checkpoints; when the homes of suspected terrorists are destroyed, and "targeted assassinations" are introduced into a new global militarized geog­raphy; it is because the separate con­flicts now generally collected under the heading of the "war on terror"—are the backdrop to the formation of complex "institutional ecologies" that allow the exchange of technologies, mechanisms, doctrines, and spatial strategies between various militaries and the organizations that they confront, as well as between the civilian and the military domains. The main surge of the colonization of the West Bank in the 1980s coincided with the Regan-era flight of the Ameri­can middle classes and their forting up behind protective walls—both forma­tions which set themselves against the poverty and violence they themselves

d. Perfecting the politics of fear, f ion, seclusion, and visual con-i' settlements, checkpoints, walls, lu-r security measures are also the

• i are in the hardening of enclaves, • the physical and virtual exten-1 borders in the context of the i-cent global "war on terror." The

• •cture of Israeli occupation could •• seen as an accelerator and an lation of other global political pro-; a worst-case scenario of capital­

ization and its spatial fallout.

• i)( course Foucault who said, in . i nous interview with Paul Rabi-i :iat the forces of global political •.•it's remain invested in architec-1'he reason this may be impor-

iu re, even if predictable, is not only . articulates the active relationship

• -en architecture and power, but a opens the possibility for it to be

ight and exercised anew, different-gain and again. Foucault in a sense rated spatial form, and with it the tree of architecture, from being con­ed as belonging to inescapable orders beration or oppression. An architec-of oppression might be one of the

icnts which makes resistance and osition possible, but it is not in the utecture itself that liberation from ression is contained nor embodied: erty, is a practice . . . liberty is what it be exercised." Architecture might ble to support a form of political itution and vice versa, but it cannot :rol it or determine it. It can, howev-ause material and formal differentia-s; but it is the other institutions that sort that physical condition, that [ally establish the political space, political space depends not only on

physical or conceptual form, but on the context—spatial, political, and tempo­ral. Architecture at best is in control of some aspects of material form, a minor relationship to events through program, and a very indeterminate relationship to context through some relationship to site. It participates in producing polit­ical space but is unable to determine it. What we constantly need are oth­er institutions to prop up the architec­tural effect; and the notion of propping up is where a certain mythology about architecture and its making is in contrac­tion to the notion of autonomy. It could install a democracy, or any other form of organization, depending on the kinds of institutions, and military, economic, or social patterns, which support it in the first place. The architecture in turn sup­ports the institution and produces it; it stages the political and with it the inher­ent ideology of frames. Architecture and any other spatial form therefore come into being through the institutions that support them, rather than embody what the institutions are or can imagine. This exposes all of the problems inherent in thinking of art or architecture as applied practices in relationship to a need or lack. The ideal of autonomy is pulling away from the inherent messiness of intervening in the social realm—work­ing away from independence toward notions of equity and inter-dependen­cy—and is profoundly concerned with a certain type of invisibility. This is the invisibility of permanence and image, an actively promoted incapacity to artic­ulate any kind of final product. There is in the practice of supporting a move­ment toward the erasure of the visible, encouraging an unarticulated visual-ity precisely in order to prevent arriv­ing at any possible conclusion or solu-

B35

. . * ."-wun

tion by even attempting to provide an image of it. This is replaced by the pro­cess of constructing, producing, and imagining through uncertainty, generos­ity, and negotiation. This is the process of which I was speaking earlier—that of the formation of the public realm, and through it the instantiation of democra­cy. By being invisible and always in the making, it becomes essential to physical-ize the processes of its rehearsal by ask­ing questions, giving voice, construct­ing frameworks and platforms, making invitations, and offering support.

1ARKUS MIESSEN

al, you have writ ten extensively struggle of politics and the radi-

for example, by the work of Jiirgen Habermas)—are not adequate to grasp the challenge that we are facing today.

B36

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